


a fire that starts

by kiden



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Avengers: Endgame AU, M/M, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 13:18:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19746547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiden/pseuds/kiden
Summary: "Are we on a date right now?"





	a fire that starts

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this before i saw endgame but never posted it bc i’m a baby, i guess. it’s just a little thing,

"Are we on a date right now?" 

It’s all sarcasm, meant only to point out that Steve is hesitating, staring at Tony instead of doing what they’re supposed to be doing. A loud, hysterical laugh pops out of him before he can stop it. 

It's so out of place, so surprising, Steve slaps a hand over his own mouth, as if he could push the sound back inside, and Tony lifts his faceplate, lips turned down at the corners and all the lines of his face are tight and unhappy. He knows what Tony can see in his expression. How wide and glassy his eyes are - even Steve can feel how wild he looks, how absolutely desperate. 

He's never really minded making the sacrifice play. Sometimes there's no choice. Sometimes you have to lie down on the wire. But now, Steve finally understands Tony's flippant answer all those years ago. He wishes they could cut the wire, because looking at Tony, in the middle of the whirlwind around them, the gauntlet in front of them, Steve wants to live. Almost more than anything. 

"Yes," Steve says in a rush. "This is a date."

Something so soft passes across Tony's face that Steve has to reach out and touch him. Press the palm of his hand to his jaw, just for a moment. He doesn't even know what he's trying to say, but it seems like Tony hears it anyway, understands, maybe agrees. He catches Steve's hand with his own, the suit dissolving away just enough so he can feel the warmth of Tony's skin against the tips of his fingers. 

"I would've -," Tony stops and shakes his head, shakes away whatever he was going to say. It hurts. "This sucks. Next time I pick. We'll go to a game." 

If Tony can see the tears sliding down Steve's face, he hasn’t let on. His eyes are big and brown and locked onto his, like he can't see anything else, there's nothing else in the universe except Steve's red-rimmed eyes.

It's a beautiful thought and it unravels like film around him. Steve can see the blue, cloudless sky and the green grass and hear the distinct sound of a ball popping off a bat. He can see them, the way he always could, in his imagination and then his dreams, when there was half the world between them, and how easy it would've been. How easy it was supposed to be. 

"Okay," Steve agrees. Their eyes never move away from each other's faces, even as Steve slips on the gauntlet. "I'd like that." 

He's burning up. A fire that starts in his hand, sears to the bone, and begins to spread. Tony's crying and Steve wishes he could brush the tears away, but he's afraid to touch him now. Afraid he'll burn away too.

He wants to say more. To tell Tony what it feels like, how everything is unfolding in front of him, how far he can see now and all the things it feels like he could almost touch. How it expands in his chest, and it's them, standing in front of a mirror, in front of a mirror, in front of a mirror, reflecting back onto each other through endless windows. 

"I'd like that, too," he hears Tony say. "I'll take you - I'll -" 

Steve wants to tell him about the hundreds of other thems who love and love and - 

But then there’s a light, and a deep ocean, and nothing.

  
  



End file.
